


Days and Nights We Lost to Weakness

by Kirazalea



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Air Nomad Genocide (Avatar), Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fire Nation Lore (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Introspection, Kinda, Lesbian Azula (Avatar), M/M, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Post-Canon, Propaganda, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, most of the relationships are just alluded to tbh, the beginnings of one anyway, there's another tag, they dealt with that fact in VERY different ways tho, this is all very zuko focused and introspective, zuko and azula are both gay and you can pry that from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirazalea/pseuds/Kirazalea
Summary: Zuko never wanted to visit his father's cell again, but he needs to do it one more time.He's spent far too much of his life living in fear of the man that controlled his every decision and now he's finally ready to say something he should have said a long time ago.
Relationships: Aang & Toph Beifong & Katara & Sokka & Suki & Zuko, Azula & Mai & Ty Lee & Zuko, Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Azula/Ty Lee (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 72
Kudos: 994





	Days and Nights We Lost to Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing anything a:tla, so sorry if it's not the best, but this idea has been floating around in my mind for a few months now, so I finally sat down and actually wrote it.  
> If there are any tags that I'm missing, please let me know! Otherwise, enjoy!
> 
> Title from Fake It by Bastille

The breeze drifting off the mountainside tugged more insistently at the hood of his cloak the closer he got to the prison. Zuko pulled it further down his face as he approached the rock hewn wall in front of him. It wasn’t quite fall and the days were still warm, but the night air had begun to hold a bite. 

Sokka had explained it to him once when he’d mentioned his distaste for the wind’s indecisiveness. He’d said that during the day, the sun warmed the air at the bottom of the volcano, and warm air tended to rise toward the sun, so the breeze felt more like a gentle caress. At night, the air would fall back to the ground, cold without the sun’s light to heat it.

Sokka had held Zuko close and traced his fingertips up and down Zuko’s arms in demonstration as he’d explained, warm and firm as they climbed higher, feather light and ticklish on the way back down, and Zuko remembered thinking that he would’ve recalled a lot more of his lessons when he was young if he’d had Sokka as his tutor. 

As a child, Zuko had to hold back shivers when wind like this found its way into the palace. Three years at sea, months of sleeping under the night sky, first as a refugee, then a traitor, and an extended swim in the oceans of the North Pole had cured him of that habit.

It was probably for the best. Sokka liked to sleep with the windows open. He claimed that it was too hot otherwise, and Zuko could see how someone who grew up in subzero temperatures would come to that conclusion, so he always just threw another blanket onto his side of the bed and called it a night.

The fact that he was able to cuddle up to Sokka didn’t hurt either. Sokka complained that Zuko gave off more heat than an actual fire, but he never turned Zuko away from his arms.

Even with all of the seemingly insurmountable challenges Zuko had overcome in the past year alone, he still thought that leaving Sokka’s embrace earlier that night was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. With Sokka, he was safe; he was happy and in love and warm and at peace. 

Seeing his father made him feel anything but. 

But for his own sake, and for Azula’s, he needed to see this through. 

Zuko remembered sneaking out into the night to see Uncle. It had barely been a year ago, but with everything that had changed, it felt like a lifetime had passed. The first time he’d visited the prison, the guard had been shocked to see that their intruder was the crown prince. Zuko hadn’t wanted anyone to know that he was there, and as such, the man he’d run into was caught off guard and wary at his presence. Now, however, Zuko nodded to the sentries as they opened the outer door for him. 

He wasn’t going to announce this visit to the court, but he had no reason to hide in the shadows anymore. The only people that could truly hurt him were the people he’d entrusted his heart to, and he knew that none of them would ever try to shatter it.

He walked deeper into the prison, trailing his hand across the smooth stone wall. He tried to hold onto the way Sokka’s hands had felt against his skin that night as he drew closer and closer to his father’s cell. He’d only seen him twice since he was crowned, and neither occasions had been pleasant for him. He’d sought distraction and refuge from his friends after both visits, their laughs slowly making the fear and darkness he’d carried with him slip away. He hated seeing the man who haunted his mind look so pitiful and bitter, and if he never saw him again for the rest of his life, he would die happy; but he needed to visit him one more time. Just the one, he’d promised himself. Then he could spend the rest of his life in the sun with people who actually loved him.

The guards in front of his father’s door tensed at his approach, but bowed respectfully when they registered who their visitor was. Zuko tipped his head in acknowledgment and they both moved past him further down the hall. He lowered his hood after they had turned the corner. They could still hear if anything happened, but it gave Zuko the privacy he needed for this conversation.

After closing the door behind him, Zuko strode further into the room, stopping when he reached the midpoint between the bars and the entrance. He sat down on the floor then, with all the grace of someone who had spent a lifetime as royalty. There was no hint of the years he’d spent banished in shame in his posture as he rested his hands lightly on his knees.

His father was awake and staring at him through the matted hair that hung in his face. Neither of them spoke and Zuko could feel the familiar pit of unease that rose in his gut, but he made sure to show none of it on his face.

He _would not_ be the one that broke first ever again.

After a moment, his father huffed out a breath, rising out of his slouch to plant his back against the wall.

“Another honorable visit from the Firelord?” His voice had become rougher in the months since Zuko’s last visit, but it still held the same tone that Zuko remembered; a silky smooth gravel that lulled you and put you on edge in the same breath; a contradiction that fit the man before him perfectly. When he was younger, Zuko had focused on the honeyed words and the hushed tone with which they were spoken; craved it, even as that same voice quietly reprimanded him. 

Now, he heard his father’s words for exactly what they were.

Zuko sat silently. He felt how hard and fast his heart was beating beneath his skin, the cold sweat that broke out on his chest and arms as he thought about what he needed to say. A lifetime of rejection and condemnation from his father told him to bite back the words and leave, to keep the secret he’d never outright admitted to his father, not even when he’d left to help Aang. 

He could practically recite the words his father had spoken about _people like them_ when he was younger, the words he’d had to endure once more after betraying Uncle and returning to his farce of a home. He could remember his tutor listing their accepting nature as one of the reasons that justified his not-so-great-grandfather, as Sokka liked to call him, wiping out the air nomads. _No one should tolerate or abide that kind of behavior, Prince Zuko._

Zuko hadn’t realized why that particular lesson had left him shaking until much later.

Zuko had been silent for too long, he knew, but before his father had the chance to dismiss him completely, Zuko spoke up quietly. “You were wrong.”

Ozai snorted derisively. “And what **else** was I _mistaken_ about, Your Highness?” he sneered, tone deceptively soft.

For another moment, Zuko stared into his father’s eyes. Before the confrontation with Aang that had ended the war, those eyes had been a sharp gold, almost seeming luminescent. Their light had always been as bright and dangerous as the sun with none of the warmth to temper it. Now, after losing his bending and his throne, they just looked dull and washed out.

“You always spoke,” Zuko began slowly, “about those who loved indiscriminately. About men who loved other men, and women who loved women.” He paused, tipping his head toward the floor and swallowing down the taste of bile that had found a home at the back of his throat. He couldn’t meet his father’s eyes any longer. “You said they were a blight, that they were a disgrace to Agni’s gift. You said that their inner fire would eventually burn them from the inside out because it knew they weren’t worthy to carry it.” 

Zuko forced his head back up and set his jaw. “You were _wrong_.”

Ozai sneered, face twisted up like a serpent preparing to spit venom. “I always thought you’d be one of them,” he said softly. “You were a disgrace in every other way. You were born without the spark in your eye.” His own eyes narrowed. “I thought maybe I could burn it out of you myself since your fire obviously wasn’t strong enough to deal with you properly.”

“My fire is just fine,” Zuko replied evenly. If his hands were shaking the slightest bit against his knees, it wasn’t like his father would be able to see it anyways. “In fact, my fire is stronger now than it’s ever been. Turns out _rage_ is what burns you from the inside out until there’s nothing left but ash,” he stated dryly. 

“Perhaps you were just too _weak_ to utilize it properly,” Ozai spat. “A result of your… _proclivities_.”

“You’ve never thought Azula to be weak.”

There was a silence after his words. Zuko could almost see his father’s mind working through it all in a split second. Whether or not Zuko was lying to him; what exactly Zuko could gain from lying about this _now;_ the fact that Zuko was telling the truth; the fact that he’d raised not one, but _two_ of the very people he scorned.

“I lost _years_ of my life to you,” Zuko said, glaring into his father’s face. “I lost more than one potential relationship because I was afraid that you would find out, no matter how hard I might have tried to keep it a secret. But I _learned_.” 

The words leaving his throat felt like the one time he’d succeeded in breathing fire with his uncle. They burned and seared something vulnerable inside of him and Zuko was afraid that he was making a horrible mistake he could never take back. But with every word he spoke, it felt more and more like he was doing something _right_. 

“I may have lived in constant _fear_ of you,” he continued, his words gaining momentum as he pushed out everything he’d been holding back his entire life, "I may have forced myself to become someone I _wasn’t_ in order to gain your love, I may have _forced_ myself to _sit_ there and _listen_ while you told me that _people like_ ** _me_** deserved nothing but death, but _I. Got. Out_ ,” he spat. “ _You_ sent me away and I found people that actually cared about me and showed me that I wasn’t _wrong_ for loving men.” He closed his eyes tightly. “Azula never had that. She spent _every day_ of her life surrounded by your hatred, swallowing your poison until it nearly killed her. 

“She had a breakdown the day of the eclipse,” Zuko said quietly. “Something in her broke because of what you did to her.” He stopped to scoff. “Not that you even _cared_ about her in the first place. No, she was just a tool, a pawn in your war game. Just like the soldiers that you ordered into a slaughter all those years ago. _Everyone_ is expendable to you. They further your lust for power or you remove them yourself. And even if she didn’t want to believe it, I think she knew that. She saw what you did to me for defying your vision and made _damn_ sure she would never give you a reason to do the same thing to her.

“She fit herself into the mold of an obedient daughter, the prodigy that would follow your every wish, no matter the fact that that mold was _suffocating_ her. She took to heart the consequences I received for failure, but the lesson I wish she'd seen instead is that pretending for you nearly destroyed me.”

Zuko opened his eyes again, but he didn’t lift them from the floor. He couldn’t look at the man in front of him. Azula had slowly been getting better after months away from their father’s influence, but he could still picture the first few weeks after the comet; he saw them often enough in his nightmares. She had been completely broken, switching between sobs and vitriol, sullen silence and cruel arrogance at the drop of a hat. It was months before he was able to even be in the same room as her without it ending in her trying to hurt him. It hadn’t been until ten days ago that he was able to hug her for the first time in nearly a decade. She’d cried into his shoulder as he held her close, and in broken whispers she told him that she’d seen him with Sokka the day before. She’d told him how her first thought told her that Zuko was disgusting. How her second thought told her that she could have had that with Ty Lee if she hadn’t pushed her so far away.

She’d been so afraid of the longing that shot through her when she acknowledged her second thought.

It’d been so long since the last time she’d confided in him, trusting that her big brother would understand, would have the power to help her.

“I’ve learned to live with everything you did to me,” Zuko said, standing up silently. He savored the way his father startled at his words, stuttered when he had to look _up_ to see his son’s face. “You have _no_ power over me anymore. And I’ll help Azula get there too. I’ll show her that there’s no _shame_ in love. You forged her into a weapon; I’m going to help her be a sister. And we’re going to be just fine without you.”

Zuko turned away. When he reached the door, however, he paused. 

“His name is _Sokka_ ,” Zuko said firmly, voice barely above a whisper. He knew his father would hear him. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m going to marry him one day. For now, I’m going to go back to him. I’m going to hold him close and in the morning, the first thing I’m going to see is the way the sunrise paints his skin gold because he refuses to sleep under the covers unless it’s as cold as the South Pole. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him. And I hope to Agni that one day you can find it in your heart to be happy for me, and for whatever girl steals Azula’s heart. But if not…” 

Zuko finally turned his head back toward his father. Ozai had slid down the wall a little. He looked pained and his chest heaved up and down as the sound of his breathing filled the room. After a moment of the near silence, his head jerked up, his eyes landing on Zuko. Zuko waited until those eyes met his. 

“I don’t care.”

Zuko opened the door and lifted his hood once more. 

* * *

Zuko tried to be as quiet as possible as he slipped back between the covers, but he froze when he heard a voice, a little rough and slurred from sleep.

“You okay?”

Sokka’s eyes were half closed, his hair was a messy halo around his head, and he looked about five seconds away from nodding off again, but he was focused on Zuko.

Zuko slid the rest of the way under the light blankets and tucked them up around his ears before answering. “I am now.”

Sokka’s smile was lethargic but genuine. “Sap,” he mumbled, shifting over.

Zuko pushed the top blanket off and lifted the remaining one up before turning around. Sokka slid his arms around him and pulled him closer. “You sure everything’s alright?” he whispered, lips brushing against Zuko’s neck. Zuko gave Sokka’s wrist a quick squeeze before laying his hand over Sokka’s, linking their fingers together. 

Tomorrow, Aang would show up on Appa, accompanied by the people Zuko cared about most in the world. They would all be spending the next week or two in the palace. 

Aang wanted to visit a semi-close mountain with him _(he claimed that a dragon had lived there a century ago and wanted to see if they could find the spot again to set up a small memorial for his friend Kuzon, who they’d found out had been hunted by Sozin for his outspokenness about the slaughter of the Air Nomads)._

Toph was still bugging him about her life changing field trip and wouldn’t let him have a moment of peace until she got her way _(he had a feeling it had something to do with an up-and-coming earthbending tournament with a thus-far undefeated champion who liked to brag far more than he should, but she had surprised him before)._

Katara, Hakoda, and Bato were excited to see Sokka again, ready to tease both of them any time they acted like a couple _(though Zuko knew that Sokka was just as ready to tease his father and step-father right back)._

Suki had been wanting to train with both of them again for a few weeks now and he was fully ready to get his ass handed to him _(even though he knew Suki wouldn’t leave entirely unscathed either)._

It had been a couple months since he’d last seen his uncle, and he was looking forward to Uncle’s tea. He still insisted that it was leaf juice, but it was _Uncle’s_ leaf juice and it tasted like home. He could use a bit of that after tonight. He also wouldn’t complain too much if Uncle wanted to hug him once or twice _(every day)._

He also planned to have breakfast with Azula before they arrived _(she had calmed down significantly after crying with him. He was hopeful that she’d be able to see Mai and Ty Lee again in the next few months. They had both asked after her after hearing that she’d broken down. Zuko didn’t know how that was going to end up, but he had hope for them)._

For tonight though, he wanted nothing more than to let his eyes close and surrender to sleep with Sokka beside him. He pulled Sokka’s hand up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against his palm before returning it to its place over his heart.

“It will be,” Zuko replied. He heard and felt Sokka hum softly into his neck.

“Love you,” Sokka mumbled, barely audible. 

Zuko knew that Sokka was already asleep again.

“Love you too,” he whispered, eyes closing softly as the rhythm of Sokka’s breath and heart lulled him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Sokka is incredibly intelligent and would definitely know the science behind things like mountain and valley breezes, no one can change my mind about this.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment, they make my day ♡


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